


The Brunt Of All Our Desires

by tenderwrites



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schizophrenia, mentions of hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderwrites/pseuds/tenderwrites
Summary: Trapped in a delirious world of abandonment, Spy struggles to see the light of day and remain stable in his line of work, and during the most violent of battles, he nearly snaps, but Soldier stumbles along and in his haze of innocence and absurd optimism, rescues Spy and keeps him safe and sound.





	The Brunt Of All Our Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeenyPheentom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeenyPheentom/gifts).



> This is an impromptu idea I got while studying organic chemistry, out of all the things I could have got inspiration from, it had be science. Oh well. Have angsty Spy trying to work his way around the war, and Soldier doing his best (unknowingly) to comfort him. 
> 
> Also, this is a gift to Dee, a friend I've known for a few days but shares the same love for Freedom Fries and lives so far away until I can't really find the time to talk to them! Still, they are the friendliest. and would definitely deserve everything. Thanks mate! Hope you like this little fic. 
> 
> Dee: couteauu.tumblr.com/DeenyPheentom  
> Music for this fic: Grouplove - Tongue Tied

Warfire, the spray of bullets and the irreversible pained shouts on the battlefield.

They were quite the normal sight to behold, as far as a war went and erased itself simultaneously, as Spy slinked in and out of team territory into the back of enemy sightlines where no one could sniff or rat him out, even if they tried their damnedest to look out for the French bastard that made their backs his playing ground and the filling for his knife. As he eliminated the enemies that were mowing down his team, he stood in the middle of the bloodbath and gazed at the bodies at his feet and the blood on his beloved butterfly knife. The toll of the war would take their effect on him later, but now he had no time to mope. Mercenaries the colour of dark blood would pounce on the cart and wipe it clean of blue, were it not for his pursuits and his fellow support team.

Honestly, his life could be more exciting, filled with fine wine and chic fashion adorning his closet. He would have the time to enjoy expensive tastes and travel the world on a plane, hot air balloon or even a private boat! He was earning more than a doctor, and yet, he did not feel as if he was helping anyone and merely looked out at the settling horizon at the end of the day with a weary heart and worn-out limbs. The golden and pink streaks of the sky made him think of the days where he would roam free and maskless, running free in the fields of a far-off flower patch and lie in the heart of grass on a patterned mat, closing his eyes to dream of aerial satellites in space and the clouds that floated in the air.

He opened his tired eyes.

Still in the bowels of a stalemate war.

Curse himself for being so naive when he was a young adolescent, when there were no enemies infiltrating to speak of and no people’s lives that counted on him, and the welcoming arms of his freedom in this world of suffering could relent and allow him brief happiness. The respite of fresh fruits and classic books along the markets and open bookstores made him feel utter contentment, so unlike the ear-piercing screams and the flying limbs from cutting shrapnel. More than often, he’d wanted to escape from this harsh reality and things were...as a matter of fact, contemplated in the dimly-lit heart of his smoking room. Maybe then, he could embrace the clean air in someplace else and lie forever amidst flora and fauna, without having to worry about a drop of blood on his suit to dirty it.

He watched as the bumbling cart rolled by his peripheral vision and gaped, open-mouthed, at his blood-soaked teammates pushed it with all their might, their wounds healing from the strange beam of light administered to them from Medic, who had a strange bloodshot glint in his eye as well. Perhaps he wanted to get out from this blasted place, so he wouldn’t have to take care of anyone who dared to even get injured and receive a sound scolding from him.

Spy glanced at the rickety wired fence surrounding the battlefield and saw the short path of flight of a little gray bird, its wings hanging on the curls of air and its feathers, slightly ruffled, gave the notion that the bird had been flying for a long time. One step was all it took for Spy to sprint towards that fence and throw his knife into a foreign place, but he could hardly notice and nearly crashed headfirst into the wall. Wall found, foot on the wires, he steadied himself to climb over into the wilderness and he could almost see the bright blue sky and forests beckoning him to jump into their grasp.

“Spy.” An unusually quiet voice sounded out from behind the dapper gentleman and he rested his hands on the wire fencing, refusing to be brought back to reality. “What are you doing?”

“...I’m climbing this fence, it would seem.” He answered honestly, as giving a ludicrous response to his team’s self-proclaimed lieutenant would invite unwanted trouble. The man was a little shorter than the Frenchman but he was certainly more muscular, the rippling sensations giving Spy headaches at times. Few had ever seen him without his helmet, as he kept close to it for security and  a sense of being in the American army. It wasn’t worth being reasonable to him; the bull-headed Soldier was a pain to deal with sometimes.

“Climbing? Why are you climbing? Don’t you have other routes to get to the enemy?” Spy could see his mouth tilt upward in confusion and in the midst of battle, the rocket-launching buffoon all but abandoned his personal rocket launcher and started to scale the steel wall as well. He climbed with a serious expression as if he was crossing the trenches and barbed wires of defense strongholds, but the lanky man saw in him a sprightly and upright man that cherished the fireworks on 4th of July and loved his comrades and family, often associating both for the other. Admiration struck Spy and he lost the images of spectacular waterfalls and butterflies in his head, and focused on the silly old man trying to understand his pained intentions of trying to escape a prison.

“I do, but I like watching the scenery sometimes.”

Satisfied with his answer, Soldier simply nodded, and joined Spy in carefully observing their teammates attempting to push a cart half the size of Heavy and filled with bombs that would murder them all if one of them even toyed with the machinery and pressed a few buttons or more.

“...How long do you watch the scenery for?”

“A few minutes, _cher_. Be patient.”

The clear sound of a helmet hitting the pavement reached Spy and he promptly turned to look at his newfound companion who had already jumped off the fence and was sitting on the ground with no care for his soiled clothes. The tall man was shocked at Soldier’s audacity, since no one even dared to lift up the veteran’s helmet or poke fun at him about him. They all had seen enough of his roughhousing and ‘manly aggression’, as he’d aptly coined it a few weeks ago. He stared at Soldier for answers, and found himself lost in scenery again.

The man--no, the handsome man had a blond crewcut and short sideburns to match, together with eyes the colour of summer skies and fun times in between the farms of ripe produce and food. He reminded Spy of his teenager years and his frequent rebelliousness against his flustered parents and reprimanding teachers, and the time when he tried smoking for the first time at age 16. The jolt of puberty and the aching times of adulthood--it was all gone, but rather, if Spy stayed, he would be right beside a man whom he secretly envied and had a deep infatuation for. Never mind the exotic species of plants he wanted to find; here was where he felt at home for a short period of time with this man.

“I am going to sneak behind the enemy and catch them unaware. Are you with me?”

Spy smiled.

“That’s my job, is it not?” Soldier looked at him knowingly as if he knew what Spy had been thinking before, and his blue eyes hinted at something equal to sympathy and admiration. He hopped off the fence and picked up his teammate’s helmet, throwing it to him, while Soldier hunted for his rocket launcher.

The two of them locked hands and set off under the remnants of a cloak, pursuing the respawning enemies, imagining the brightest of futures in a distant rice field somewhere far away from the explosions and bloodshed of a war they were never destined to fight.


End file.
